


Colors

by orphan_account



Category: jacksepticeye, markiplier - Fandom, youtube - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Drug Use, Existential Angst, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, More tags to be added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-27
Updated: 2015-09-27
Packaged: 2018-04-23 17:50:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4886065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack's world is blue.<br/>Mark's world is red.</p><p>How do they make purple?</p><p>(Listen to 'colors' by Halsey before reading this it'll help u understand. I've also being reading 'The Outsider' by Albert Camus and that is heavily reflected in this. I'm sorry.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Colors

 Jack's world is blue. He doesn't remember it being any other colour. It saturates everything he touches so he avoids ever being in contact with anything or anyone. His family life is dull and his school life is even worse, he finds himself constantly waiting for someone to appear from behind a curtain and tell him it's all some big practical joke. Everyone living a life like this - cold, monotonous, and mind-numbingly boring - must find an escape and Jack has his. He's not unintelligent, he knows the risks aligned with drug use - he just doesn't care. So every time he feels any unwanted emotion he pops a pill.

Even his pills are blue; he's not surprised. 

He daily walks the line between getting by and falling apart. It's the only real thrill he knows, the fact that maybe it could all end. He's thought briefly about suicide but figures that something is bound to change eventually so he may as well stay, just in case. Though nothing ever does. 

He lives with his brother and his Mum. He hardly ever talks to his family members, they're more like housemates and really he's just occupying space. His Mum works all day every day, he only gets a reminder that she exists when he sees the money left on the kitchen countertop for food. He can't remember what her smile looks like. He doesn't care. It's sad and wrong but he knows they could all die tomorrow and his feelings wouldn't change. He knows caring wouldn't make any difference anyway. 

It's a bleak Monday morning in the midst of October, and he's getting ready for school. He would call it a revelation but he knows it's not a new discovery; he's conflicted, and he can't find balance. Maybe that's why every glimpse of light he sees is a horrible blue tinge, maybe it's his own fault. Digging his sweaty hands into the pocket of his jeans he pulls out a familiar shaped substance; pills. He swallows one, two, three, four, five - he needs balance. One for every mistake. One for every failure. In the end he still ends up trudging to school, eyes dilated, veins twisting around his arms and neck, any will to live he previously had slowly fading. Maybe the end is the only balanced thing he'll ever see.

History was his favourite class by far, mostly because of how utterly pointless it was and how little the teacher actually cared. They would sit and watch the same video about world war II they had previously sat and stared at for the last however many lessons of this year. Most of his class had dropped out but he had stayed merely because it was one of the only times within the day where he could properly think. Among him were three other students two of them being the most dimwitted people in his year, he didn't even bother acknowledging them, and the other being a strange pink-haired boy who always appeared to be engrossed in his noting taking. He had never taken to talking to him even though they sat a few inches away. Part of Jack half wished the stranger would turn round and ask him a question. But soon forgot about his desire as he got pulled into another train of thought: 'why can't he care like everyone else does about the meaningless things?' Jack had never been able to understand human nature or sentiment despite being completely human himself. He always thought it so utterly pointless; existence. What's the point if it's all going to shatter and break in the end anyway? 

Jack must have said this aloud as the pink-haired boy turned to face him.

"Bit dark for a Monday, don't you think?" The boy's smile was beautiful and took pleasure in lighting up his entire face. Jack, in that moment, thought he must have appeared every out of place beside him.

"I didn't mean to say that out loud," 

"You know, there are a lot of things we don't understand about the world, answers you and I will probably never hear and questions we will never even think of. Why do people only seem to concentrate on those ones?"

"Like what?"

"...like your name, considering  you don't talk to anyone, I'll probably never find that out!" If Jack had wanted to he could have laughed along with the boy.

"Jack," 

"What?" The laughing boy stopped to look surprised.

"My name, it's Jack."

"Oh, cool. I'm Mark. Nice to meet you, Jack." 

Jack believed that history class was going to be a lot more interesting from then on out. 


End file.
